The Best Birthday Gift
by XI-Am-ObsessedX
Summary: (Human AU!) Alfred hasn't seen his mom or brother in a year. The first wants nothing to do with him, the latter couldn't get to him. Then, on this fateful day, he gets an unexpected visitor. Just some fluffy brotherly love between Alfred and Matthew, a bit OOC mostly because of the AU and because they were separated for quite a while. One-shot.


_A/N: This is from 2016 and I can't remember what I was going to do with it, but I like this. I didn't properly develop the universe and they probably seem OOC but that's mostly because of the circumstances this AU put them in._

Alfred sat on his couch, eating a cupcake and staring listlessly at the television. He had called so many times and it would just ring and ring until he heard the voicemail message. He left one, knowing that he'd never get a response. Was it too much to ask to hear from home on his _birthday_? Apparently, yes, it was, and he had accepted that cruel reality. That's what lead to him staring _through_ the TV (not at it, because he didn't care what was going on) on this 'special' day, feeling dejected.

Today signified nineteen years of his existence, and one year of living away from home, one year since he'd patted Mattie on the head, hid his glasses, or played a game with him in person. Soon, in maybe two hours, there would be fireworks. It was Independence day, and the mere name left the taste of poison on his tongue — the irony was painful.

Someone knocked on the door and he neither expected it nor was willing to answer it. They didn't go away, though. They knocked incessantly, so eventually he opened the door.

"What is it?" he muttered. Then he observed the guest. His eyes were blue as the ocean behind the black frames and slightly reddened, as was the rest of his face. He'd been crying. He was clutching the handle of a small bag in his hand — the other was bunching up a corner of his T-shirt.

"Mattie?"

Matthew pushed the glasses up on his face so that they wouldn't fall off and cleared his throat.

"H-happy birthday," he whispered, "c-can I come in?" Alfred stepped to the side and Matthew walked into the small apartment.

Alfred took the bag and tossed in on the couch before pulling Matthew into a bear hug.

"I missed you..."

Mattie returned the embrace. "I missed you t-too. Life's been... _rough._ "

When they parted, Alfred asked, "What'cha doing here, bro? I thought mom didn't want you coming to see me — got her to change her mind?"

Matthew scoffed. "Of course n-not. In fact, we f-fought about it this morning. She wouldn't even pick up the p-phone...We were both really mad, I needed time to cool off and I w-wanted to see you, s-so this morning I got on the bus and waited it out to g-get here."

He paused for a moment and looked away. He didn't want to cry anymore. He wanted to be strong in front of his brother to show him that he was okay even though he wasn't there, that he didn't have to worry. It wasn't working, though.

"What's in the bag?" Alfred asked, mostly as a distraction.

"Toothbrush, pajamas, that s-sort of stuff...I w-was gonna spend the night. But I'll go back home if you don't have...if you don't have the space; it's a s-small place you have here."

"Yeah. Saved my dough for important things. I'm roughing it, yeah, thing's are a little less than awesome but I'm getting there. And you can totally crash here, man! There's always room for _you_! I mean, I can sleep on the couch. I know you have school Monday but you can go back home tomorrow afternoon, right? I'm pretty psyched you're here."

Mattie sat down on the couch and unzipped the bag. He pulled a white teddy bear out of it, and mumbled something that sounded like an apology to the plushie for trapping him in a bag for a few hours.

"You still walk around with Kuma, huh?"

Matthew looked up innocently, like the thought of him _not_ doing that was incredibly strange. "Duh."

Kuma was a toy polar bear Matthew had gotten from their father when he was maybe two or three, not long before he disappeared out of his life. Alfred had received one too, but he lost it when he was seven on the playground and by the time he realized and went back to look for it, some other kid got to it first. He never replaced his, saying he was too upset to do so, but Matthew got so scared the same thing would happen to him that he didn't let his out of his sight until he was perhaps nine, and then he started leaving it at home more often because he was scared he'd get made fun of. Still, to sleep and in times of stress, he made sure to have the toy. It had sentimental value; he didn't really feel safe without it, and it never judged him, said hurtful things, or rejected his hugs.

Kuma was short for something like Kumakiko or Kumamiho or...you know, Mattie wasn't really sure. Their dad had been the one to name it, and when he figured out that he could not, for the life of him, figure out his real name, he settled on Kuma.

So, as Matthew cuddled with Kuma and began to share what was going on in his life, Alfred scanned the whole kitchenette for something to offer him. He tended to buy things to eat immediately and not to store, so snacks weren't something he usually had much of. Eventually, he found a small pack of chips and offered it to Matt with a coke. It wasn't much, but it was like Heaven to him. He was starving and he only just realized as the adrenaline stopped pumping and the tears ceased coming for a bit.

A year had been too long, and it might've been another year until Alfred saw him again. Time was slipping away. Matt was already taller; he had just turned sixteen only three days before, and when he'd called, Matthew's cell was disconnected as it'd been for at least a few weeks (he then discovered Mattie had lost his old phone and their mom was being petty about it) and the house phone did the same thing it'd done that day: ring and ring and ring. He wished he had been the one to give Mattie a birthday present as meaningful as the one he'd just received because it meant the world to him. He even went through all that trouble, seeing as their mother kept him from Alfred since he'd been kicked out mere days after he turned eighteen. He came out as a testament to his new life as an adult, and she gave him the boot almost immediately.

But Mattie didn't care. Alfred could've been part _alien_ and Mattie wouldn't have cared. Alfred was his older brother, and even though they used to fight almost everyday when they lived together, he was always there for him against the bullies, the system on occasion, and their own mom. They couldn't stand each other sometimes, but they were inseparable, until, of course, they'd been forcefully separated.

And as they sat on the ratty couch and Mattie spilled everything, he cried. He cried because he only had one kid who knew his name and he was still too shy to really talk to him. He cried because everyone ignored him. He cried because even when he knew he was a ghost to everyone, crowds still made him feel sick. He cried because if he didn't have his good grades, what did he have? He cried because Alfred was gone, and without him, he felt so alone.

He cried because their mom didn't even care.

He told himself he wouldn't let it come to this, but he couldn't control the waterworks and wilted in his brother's company, repressed feelings bubbling to the surface. Alfred did what awesome big brothers do and comforted him, assuring him that he was doing well enough and that things would be fine, and what he couldn't do was done by the bear.

Though he knew the couch made on a number on his back if he slept to on it, Alfred said nothing of it and slept on it anyway so that his baby brother could sleep like just that — a baby. It was worth it to see those worry lines fade from his face, to see the stress of the day and the weight of trying to grow up fast to put up with their mom's belligerent ways melted away. With Kuma there, he looked like a child. He looked sixteen, not like a small adult. Alfred was ecstatic about that.

He didn't want Mattie to grow up fast, because that was what older brothers were for. They were there to grow up first so that the younger ones could take their time. He wanted to keep him, but there was no way Al would have the stability or the funds to put him through school. He'd have to drop out, and he wasn't going to ask him to do that and jeopardize the promosing career in his future.

Still, him being there for just a day was so _powerful_. His sleeping face meant everything to Alfred — the best birthday gift he could've imagined for himself.


End file.
